The Jellyfish

By Martha Cornog

The Jellyfish presents a charming and empathic if incomplete picture of a childlike young woman losing her sight from an uncomprehended condition. Slender and plain Odette Biset-Yu has, to her parents’ dismay, dropped out of college and is working in a Montreal bookstore. Living on her own in a third-floor walkup, she lavishes affection on her pet rabbit Napoleon and maintains a warm friendship with Leo and his girlfriend Rochelle. But she feels compelled to fend off her intrusive if well-meaning mom, who drops off food, grabs her daughter’s laundry to wash, and tries to fix her up with guys. Then into Odette’s life comes bookstore customer Naina, everything Odette is not: voluptuously sexual with thick, flowing hair, ebullient personality—and receptive to Odette’s interest. Slowly, the pair negotiate their way into a love affair starting with a sort-of first date, on a roof accessible only via a rickety fire escape. The smitten Odette ventures out of her comfort zone, and a little while afterwards the two are in bed.

The only (literal) blot on the landscape is a small dark image that has appeared in Odette’s vision and stubbornly remains. She visits an optometrist—indeed, the story begins with a detailed drawing of his phoropter, a testing device used to determine eyeglass prescriptions. But he tells her only that she has a jellyfish in her left eye. And that’s how it’s drawn, as a small and rather cute black marine blob with tentacles. The optometrist doesn’t seem worried, only advising her to “keep an eye out” (yes, that’s what the dialog balloon says!) for any changes. Odette tries to do that as her world keeps turning. She learns that Naina, who works in the family’s grocery store, has parent issues far more serious than her own. And she continues her friendship with Leo, who also blows off any concern about this mysterious “jellyfish.”

Then the jellyfish grows larger and starts to multiply. Now there’s one in each eye, so Odette goes back to the optometrist. He refers her to an ophthalmologist, who runs a few tests and sends her home without comment. Time passes. Then suddenly the larger university-affiliated ophthalmology clinic calls to tell her to come in right away. With a third jellyfish now, she endures four days of tests: bloodwork, MRI, x-rays, etc. etc.

But by this time, it seems, her condition is past remedy, if there ever had been a remedy. In the final consultation shown, Odette and Leo (along for support) are shown reacting with horror to the doctors’ assessment. No word balloons appear—it’s all in the drawings. It’s as if the words don’t matter or can’t be understood, if they ever would have been. The medical people seem also surprised and dismayed. And later so is Naina, whom Odette had never before told about her eye problem.

Odette reacts by going into a sort of denial: she stops smoking, starts running, and takes up weightlifting as if improving her overall health would keep the jellyfish at bay. But as their numbers increase and crowd out her visual field, her waning eyesight leads to an accident at the bookstore. And so she starts smoking again as the reality of her condition overwhelms her.

Gradually, Odette’s world turns completely black as the jellyfish take over. And she learns to negotiate full blindness with a rolling cane, dark glasses, and cautiously feeling her way around her apartment. By then, Naina is living with her and helps her also. A small post-it note in the background announces: “Dec 15 Odette’s parents,” presumably a note put up by Naina. We wonder how the parents will welcome their daughter’s lesbian partner, since they apparently hadn’t known she was gay. In the final panels, Odette stands out on the fire escape, appreciating a light snowfall in a new way: by feeling snowflakes on her face and tasting them on her tongue.

It’s a poignant portrayal that entertains while eliciting empathy from the reader. And we learn from text on the back-cover flap that the story has its origin in the creator’s own eye problems. Boum (a pen name for French-Canadian cartoonist Samantha Leriche-Gionet) went blind in one eye from a similar condition. Why did she not, asked an interviewer for brokenfrontier.com, tell her own story? Boum confessed that her own story in hindsight felt almost boring and, also, only one eye was affected. Moreover, it felt liberating to give her own problem to a fictional character, and then control the narrative.

Now what’s the “but”? Indeed, there is a “but.” We never learn from the graphic novel or any back matter what real eye condition Odette could have developed, if her problem does relate to a real eye condition. Or is the “jellyfish” magical realism of sorts? An absurdist parable? A metaphor for other kinds of devastating life problems? Or simply the optometrist having a little joke with terminology? Naïve young readers, thinking Odette’s visual impairment comes from a real jellyfish, could associate it with an episode of her going swimming with friends, and then shy away from water-based activities for fear of such a jellyfish entering their own eyes.

In real life, the “jellyfish” would be some sort of floater, perhaps signaling posterior vitreous detachment that morphs into a torn or detached retina—a medical condition much more likely in older people. Should the first ophthalmologist who saw her have sent her for lengthy testing much earlier than was done? Would her condition then have proved treatable?

Readers deserve more information here. If a reader has, say, floaters, what could that mean? A page or two of back matter would do it, including a concise list of useful resources such as URLs to helpful biomed websites. (Endnotes 1, 2, 3) But currently, there is no back matter beyond Acknowledgments. Curiously, the many positive reviews that The Jellyfish has received never mention this omission. But readers on graphicmedicine.com will want to know or may know already and be struck by the omission of clarifying background.

Floaters and retinal detachments fall within the category of “invisible diseases.” Having an invisible disease can spare the patient from the instant stigma triggered by people in wheelchairs and such, but on the other hand compels the patient to put up with seemingly cruel comments or else disclose their disease, especially in order to get time off from their job, workplace accommodations, and assistance on the street from strangers. (See the graphic novel Ripple Effects about a superhero with type 1 diabetes, which includes essays from writers with other invisible diseases: myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome, paranoid schizophrenia, and thrombophilia.)

Boum’s art shines, however, resembling Japanese manga in the delicacy of line, endearing yet serious characters, and subtle black/greyscale hues. (In the plot, enjoyment of several manga titles links the lovers: Battle Angel Alita and the gender-fluid Ranma ½.) Background elements like eye exam equipment appear in exquisite detail, conveying their seriousness and import. The realistic Montreal setting gives substance to the story in a way that makes Odette’s “jellyfish” all the odder.

The Jellyfish is recommended for sophisticated adults who aren’t likely to take it literally, and especially for medical professionals to increase their empathy and to help them understand barriers and communication problems between the medical world and patients.

The Jellyfish includes female nudity and is appropriate for ages 17 up.

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A retired librarian, Martha Cornog (MA, MLS) has been reviewing graphic novels for Library Journal since 2006 and coedited two books about comics. She adapted some of Katsu Aki’s Manga Sutra for Tokyopop, served as an Eisner and Glyph awards judge, and moderated comics panels at conventions, including the Graphic Medicine Conference. She is currently creating Comic Troika, a comics adaptation of three Russian satires.

References

1. https://www.aao.org/eye-health/diseases/what-are-floaters-flashes

2. https://www.aao.org/eye-health/diseases/what-is-posterior-vitreous-detachment

3. https://www.aao.org/eye-health/diseases/detached-torn-retina